


week 2 // hate to break it to you: we're in deep

by zfic



Series: ichiruki month 2K20 *.~ [2]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, HHHHHHHHHHHH, IchiRuki Month, Just Friends, Secret Relationship, Summer Nights, ichiruki month 2020, is it a secret if everyone and their mother knows about it, kind of?, please
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:47:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25913101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zfic/pseuds/zfic
Summary: ichigo muses over their friendship and all the kisses that come with it
Relationships: Kuchiki Rukia & Kurosaki Ichigo, Kuchiki Rukia/Kurosaki Ichigo
Series: ichiruki month 2K20 *.~ [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1875241
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	week 2 // hate to break it to you: we're in deep

**Author's Note:**

> i am tired but i sooo hope you enjoy! this happens somewhere between soul society and arrancar arcs and is a continuation of sorts from my prev fic oh well, oh well, oh well

The first time was a collision.

There was summer heat and giving, in some small way, to the pull, the _want_. They had denied the kisses and the soft touches, however, forgetting trembling hands and the gentle grinding beneath thin sheets in the cover of the night come morning.

But, as with most things, the first taste was rarely ever the last

Rukia had climbed into bed with him, underwear already damp with sweat and desire, and turned her back to him, feigning sleep.

And Ichigo had reached out, of course he would, tracing the delicate edge of her shoulder, her hip, the curve of her back. She curled into his touch, feeling him shift closer behind her and watched his hand come around her waist to dip into her panties.

He let out a puff of air when he slid his digits between her wet lips and stroked her. She gasped, hand coming up to cup his jaw as he mouthed at the back of her neck.

And then she turned, and they were meteors colliding. They met each other, east from the sun, west from the moon, in a tangle of legs and arms, breath mingling and nails scraping on heated skin.

“Rukia.” He murmured in that effortless, reverential way of his.

“Rukia.” He said again the morning after, when the rush of the night had ebbed and the pale morning light filtered through the tiny gap between his curtains.

They looked at each other, awkward grins plastered over their faces.

And they laughed.

Beyond his room, nothing will change. A small sacrifice, really. Little compared to what would later await them.

 _We’re just friends_ , he would tell any that’d dare ask with the same mouth that sucked on the hot coil of nerves between her legs the night before, three knuckles deep inside of her and watching expectantly as he demanded her release.

 _We’re just friends_ , she’d say, and images of her beneath him, knees drawn to her chest and lips parted in erotic pleasure flash like lightning behind his eyes.

 _We’re just friends_ would ring through Ichigo’s head when a Hollow got too close, some asshole shinigami leered too much, when a cross word he knows _would_ set her teeth on edge greets her wryly.

Ichigo isn’t an idiot. His words and actions are so contradictory it’s stupid, but he can’t help being utterly, hopelessly, focused on _her_ at all times. It’s either Rukia or nothing. Ichigo doesn’t want to admit that it had always been either one or the other even before they started fucking, but somehow every fibre of his body knows and he can live with that for now.

“You’re overprotective.” She tells him one night, crawling across his bed to settle between his legs.

He snorts, putting his hands behind his head, “You don’t get it.”

“I think I do,” Rukia kisses the centre of his bare chest as she makes her descent, “It’s like…It’s us.”

Ichigo grunts.

She drags soft lips across his stomach and looks up at him, “And then it’s the world.” Rukia pushes his knees further apart, “If one of us got lost in the world,” she smiles, her cheek resting in the pool of his hip, “what’s the other to do but follow after them?”

He swallows, his mind conflicting between focusing on the devastatingly beautiful sight before him and focusing on her words, clear and correct.

Not that he’d admit it.

“That’s deep, Rukia. You should write a book.”

“You know you can tell me things, right? Anything.” She teases, poking at his thigh, “I’ll even pretend I’m not listening to help you,” her tongue darts out and she licks the tip of his cock, “save face if it makes you feel better.”

Kissing his teeth, Ichigo grabs her shoulders and hauls her up, pressing her into his mattress and kissing her hard. He parts, they’re already panting and ready but if he doesn’t get a final word in, he’ll explode, “You can tell me things, too, ya know.” He grins, “I definitely won’t be listening, but you can tell me things.”

Rukia shoves him, it’s a meek gesture that she doesn’t really mean, especially not when he’s aligning their hips and sliding into her so exquisitely, and sighs, “I was being nice.”

“Stop it,” he presses his lips to hers, far too gently, far too sweetly, to give anything he’s saying any real stock, “It’s weird.”

“You’d rather I punch you - ah, shit - in the face, instead?”

He rolls his hips, “It’d make a lot more sense.”

“Emotionally constipated caveman.”

Ichigo pinches the soft flesh of her bottom, “You’re one to talk.”

Whatever she had planned on saying next is lost in the angle of his hips, the bites that mark the side of her neck, the rises of her breasts. Her arms come up to wind around his neck and their eyes meet and hold as their moans get breathier, heavier, rising until their release is just out of reach.

Yes. Friends.


End file.
